


Kingdom under Clouds, Kingdom Undone

by dark_and_spooky (JamieisClassic)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Abuse, Bestiality, Blood Drinking, Captivity, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Hand Feeding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Bestiality, Other, Past Rape/Non-con, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Torture, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/dark_and_spooky
Summary: [Please mind the tags y'all, this isn't a happy fic]Shaw heads to Lordaeron to investigate the activity of the enigmatic Dark Lady and is captured by her and her champion. Left to be Nathanos's toy, Shaw is used and abused for everyone's entertainment, but when they're alone things are different. Is there something hiding under the surface in Nathanos that might bring Shaw relief, or is he being optimistic for the first time in his life?[Edit: I'm aiming for a happy ending now, but it's still very unhappy in the meantime]
Relationships: Nathanos Blightcaller/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just... please understand that this is not a planned out fic and I still don't know where I'm going with it so I'm sure stuff won't make a whole lot of sense. The first chapter has explicit, non-consensual bestiality, please be warned. 
> 
> This fic is essentially a "we're stuck in a shit ass situation together and I don't want to hurt you but I have to" dynamic so please understand that it won't feel happy or soft 90% of the time but I'm aiming for a good end that ends up with them both alive and (relatively) well.

The city smelled of death. 

Which made sense, really, because it was full up with it, but Shaw found himself wrinkling his nose anyway as he slipped from shadow to shadow, drawing ever closer to the castle. After the defeat of the Lich King, the Banshee Queen Sylvanas had taken her Forsaken army back to the fallen Lordaeron and rebuilt the castle and hamlet around it into a formidable city. What she did there no one knew, only that her intentions were likely ill, and any that entered were never heard from again. The thought didn’t sit well with him, he’d admit; he was powerful and smart, but so was Sylvanas, and if rumor was true her lover was a formidable fighter as well. Little was known about the strange couple, the Alliance had little record of their past and little contact with their old allies, but Varian had grown convinced that something was amiss and had sent Shaw in to figure out who these people really were, and what they wanted. 

The approach to the castle was strangely barren of guards despite the great density with which they filled the rest of the city, and it made the hairs rise on the back of Shaw’s neck. He pulled himself closer to the shadows, staying as far as possible from sources of light and any wandering plaguehounds he came across. But strangely, he made his way over the moat and into the keep proper entirely unmolested. 

Footsteps silent on the stone floor, he crept through the hallways toward what he knew to be the throneroom, from which the rest of the castle would spread like the branches of a massive tree, yet when he arrived the room was changed from the plans he’d been shown of its construction — no throne and no dais graced the top of the room, and instead, the place was littered with small serving tables and a semicircle of low settees. If anything, it looked like a large, very high-ceilinged tea room. 

A strange couple indeed.

Shaw turned to head into one of the hallways, but suddenly found he couldn’t move. Looking down with dawning horror, he noticed heavy purple-black smoke encasing his body, trapping him in place.

“ _ ‘Will you walk into my parlour?’ said the Spider to the Fly, ‘'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy’ _ ” a raspy woman’s voice recited to him from the shadowed entrance to one of the corridors, and Shaw whipped his head around to face the voice as a figure stepped out from it. 

She was beautiful in the grotesque way that dolls and the dead often were: beautiful but so very clearly not alive. Her skin was greyed and held the pallor of death, eyes a blazing red so bright it cast light around her in a small halo, and locks of hair faded from what might have been a bright blonde and pulled into intricate plaits that were piled into a bun on her head. She wore a heavy black brocade silk dress that hugged the somehow-still-supple curves of her body and was adorned with purple satin and embroidery. A high collar framed her long neck, and though the long hem of her dress hid it, he heard the click of heels on the stone floor — how had he not heard them before? Most startling, however, was the bow that apparated out of pure shadow in her hand, a jagged thing that would have been made of bone and sinew were it fully corporeal.

The only person this could possibly be was Sylvanas Windrunner, Queen of the Forsaken and Dark Lady of Lordaeron. 

And trailing behind her, just as distinctive, was the shadowed figure of a man who could only be her champion, Nathanos Blightcaller. He was too well shrouded for Shaw to make any details out from this distance, but through the dim glow of the man’s red eyes, he could swear he caught the barest hint of a bow across the man’s back. Curious.

The pair approached, Sylvanas running her fingers over the shadows of her bow, which danced and licked along her fingertips like eager pets, and looked him up and down appraisingly. Nathanos, for what little comfort it brought him, seemed entirely at ease with his weapon stored and posture lax — clearly whatever threat Shaw posed in his mind was either so minimal he didn’t think of drawing on him, or Sylvanas’s power was so great he knew she would need no aid. Either way, Shaw felt very much like the trapped fly in the poem Sylvanas had recited to him. 

“Tell me, little fly, what have you come here for, hm?” she crooned, the rasp of death making it bitter and cold where perhaps it could have been sweet.

“Curiosity,” he grunted. Not a lie, not really, but hardly enough of the truth to catch him right out.

Sylvanas kissed her teeth, “Now, now, don’t hold back, my little fly.  _ Whose _ curiosity?”

Damn, she was smarter than he’d hoped. Shaw clenched his teeth and refused to speak, simply shaking his head.

“What a shame, and here I thought perhaps you would be an easy meal. But nevermind, I have always enjoyed the hunt more when the quarry flees.” Her smile turned vicious and biting, nothing remaining of the half-sweetness of her approach, “Well, I suppose we’ll have to have this conversation over dinner. For now, I have things to do, but I’m sure my champion will find a way to keep you both… entertained?”

Shaw doubted that dinner would be something he would attend as anything more than the main course, and as for what her champion planned to do with him, well he doubted it would be entertaining. Blightcaller gave his lady a subdued grin and a nod, and with that, she left them alone in the parlour. 

Nathanos drew a handaxe from a belt and weighed it in his hand for a moment, considering Shaw, “If I release my lady’s magic, will you attack me, I wonder.”

Shaw said nothing and Nathanos smirked, “I’ll take that as a yes. Shame, I’ve always found myself more partial to being on the receiving end of my lady’s rigging, but I suppose we’ll make do with this.”

The handaxe was spun delicately — Shaw almost wanted to call it a twirl but that didn’t seem to suit the man in front of him — and Nathanos stepped close into Shaw’s space. He reached a hand out to touch Shaw’s face and with what little movement was afforded to him Shaw snapped at the hand with his teeth, making Nathanos laugh. “You’ve got spirit, that’s a pleasant change. It’s always much more fun when they fight back. But, hmm, that makes this more difficult until I can get you properly undressed and stretched out to play with.”

Bile rose in Shaw’s throat at the thought, and coupled with the lecherous gaze the man was giving him he found himself quite suddenly realizing the severity of his situation — he was unable to escape, unable to fight back, and he had a feeling soon enough would find himself unable to resist. Nathanos began to remove his gloves, and Shaw snorted. Did he think that made him look less threatening to a man bound from toe to neck?

He reached out toward Shaw’s face again, this time gloveless, and Shaw waited until he was in biting distance to make his move this time. When the thumb inched forward to brush over his moustache he twisted his face up and snapped his teeth closed on the digit, pleased by the shock of pain on the man’s face and the iron taste that filled his mouth. 

Then Nathanos began to laugh, “Oh you went and made it easy for me, little fly. So, so easy.” He sighed in a sickenly fond way. “Like baiting a starving dog with poisoned meat.” 

Shaw reared back and tried spitting the blood out of his mouth but it coated it, a film that he couldn’t remove, and he felt it worming its way down his throat and into his body like a living illness. The bindings holding him in place dissipated and Shaw lunged forward, reaching for a dagger, but before he could attack Nathanos simply took a step back and said, “Halt.”

His limbs obeyed, suddenly frozen in place, and try as he might there was nothing he could do to move them. And then with horror, he realized what had happened — this man, Nathanos, was not simply some base Undead, he was something else, something greater, and consuming his blood had given him power over Shaw’s corporeal form. His mind was his own, mostly, but his body was slave to Nathanos’s will until whatever this effect was ended, if it ever did. 

“What have you done to me?” he snarled, and Nathanos just laughed again, a vicious, cold and amused sound.

“I’ve done nothing, my little fly, you’ve done it all to yourself. Perhaps if you behave yourself I’ll not order you to do anything too atrocious.” Nathanos leaned in with a lascivious grin, “But then again, maybe I’ll get bored and tell you to eat the half-living remains of an infirm child anyway.”

His body heaved in revulsion at the thought, and then again when he realized that it was a genuine possibility. He found a plea leaving his lips more real than anything he’d said in years, “Please not children. Anything but children.”

His captor cocked his head and seemed to consider. “You’re right, they are so small and whiny it’s not really worth the effort. Perhaps I’ll just have you eat yourself instead. That’s beside the point for now, though, let us get you into something more comfortable and get those weapons off you. Follow me.”

They walked through a series of corridors that were so dark and so twisted even with his superb training and many years of experience he found himself unable to keep track of the way back to the main parlour. Eventually, they came to a pause outside a room with a sturdy metal door and a series of keyholes that Nathanos unlocked with a series of keys Shaw also lost track of. As they entered, it became quickly evident that this was a dungeon of sorts, though thankfully it seemed unoccupied. 

“Strip yourself completely,” Nathanos ordered, and opened one of the cells, retrieving a large chest from inside. 

Shaw’s body obeyed the order despite him silently begging it not to, and he soon found every single piece of his clothing, armour and weaponry on the floor around him. Nathanos collected it all into the chest, locked it, and tossed it deep into the cell which he also then locked. They left the room and Nathanos relocked the four locks on the door, and with them, any minuscule hope Shaw had of retrieving his things without aid dissipated like so much smoke. Even if he were to regain control of his body, he couldn’t put up enough of a fight, unarmed and unarmored, to match the man holding him, nevermind the lady he served. 

He had been so deep in his head he didn’t realize they were walking until they stopped and Nathanos seemed to appraise him once again. The man stepped close and reached his still ungloved hand out to squeeze Shaw’s ass. “Exactly how much experience do you have, little fly?”

Shaw grit his teeth and did not reply, making Nathanos huff and grab his chin roughly. “I would like not to break my new toy, and I have a feeling you would prefer not to be broken either, so it is in your best interest to answer me, and do so honestly.”

“Some.”

“That’s rather vague,” Nathanos muttered, “How many, how frequently, how well endowed and how with how much prep?”

“Just one, once or twice a week, very well endowed for a human, and very little,” he preferred not to think of all the ways he…  _ served _ the crown, but he knew better than to lie in this situation.

Nathanos hummed, “I get the sense it isn’t entirely your choice either. But nonetheless, I’ll prep you appropriately for the task ahead of you.”

“Do you really think yourself so well endowed, Blightcaller?” Shaw snorted, “If you’re going to fuck me just oil yourself and I’ll be fine.”

“Myself? No, no, that would be far too enjoyable for both of us far too soon. My hounds get lonely, however, I think perhaps you would serve them well.” Nathanos’s lips twisted into a sickly sweet smile and Shaw’s guts turned to ice.  _ No.  _

“You… You’re joking. You’re trying to make me afraid. You’re—you’re—” Shaw broke off, shaking too badly to continue speaking, but Nathanos just patted his cheek.

“I want you to beg for me to take you, beg for me to fuck you, and the best way to do that is to give you what you want so much less that my cock seems like a heavenly reprieve by comparison,” Nathanos informed him.

“Why are you telling me that?” Shaw asked, frowning.

“Because I want to see you struggle with the knowledge that you could stop anything you suffer by simply begging me for my cock.” Nathanos paused, seeming to think for a moment, “And because I’m a sick, sadistic, fucked up shadow of a man. I want to watch you beg for my cock before I give it to you, want to see you beg for death before I bless you with it. Do you want me, Shaw? Truly, genuinely want me?”

Shaw wished desperately he was a better liar than he was because he knew he could not convincingly tell Nathanos what he wished to hear, “No, I don’t.”

“Then I’ll just need to break you until you do.” For a moment the man almost looked sad, but the expression was soon replaced with interest as he stepped into Shaw’s space and grabbed his ass again. “Let’s hope you’re as flexible as you look.”

He was guided then into a new room that looked to be something of an office, with three large desks arranged in a u-shape, all occupied. The largest and central desk was occupied by Sylvanas, who was sipping from a goblet and reading through something on a scroll. The other two desks were occupied by an undead night elf woman on the right and a creature Shaw recognized by description to be a San’layn on the left. 

No one looked up when they entered except the two hounds that had been resting on either side of Sylvanas’s desk, but despite not looking up, she spoke as they went toward Nathanos, “Dark Ranger Lord, is there something you need the hounds for?”

“I had hoped to test my new toy’s limits. They seemed an adequate test.”

She paused, finally looking up at them with a lecherous grin, “Haven’t you gotten creative, Nathanos. I’m impressed. Well, do carry on then, I’m sure we could use some midday entertainment to take away from the dreariness of this work.”

The San’layn nodded his agreement, looking Shaw up and down, but the other woman did not seem to have any reaction, continuing her work as before. Interestingly enough to Shaw, there seemed no expectation for her to be interested, and thus no repercussions for not being so inclined. He was soon distracted from that observation by Nathanos’s lips against his neck and fingers slipping between his cheeks, slick with something he hadn’t noticed the man coat them with. As he rubbed over Shaw’s hole and opened his mouth against the delicate skin of his throat, Sylvanas kissed her teeth.

“Now, now, Nathanos, be polite.”

He drew back from Shaw’s neck, fingers still prodding at him, “My lady?”

“It’s  _ polite _ to get the man’s permission before drinking from him. And no telling him what or why, of course,” she purred, eyes trailing Shaw’s form.

Shaw got the distinct impression she meant  _ fun _ rather than polite, but that didn’t seem to make much difference with how absolute her authority was over every person in the room. With a nearly imperceptible shudder, so small Shaw wouldn’t have detected it had the man’s finger not literally been in his ass, Nathanos nodded to Sylvanas. “Of course, my lady.”

Again, Shaw tried to parse the oddity of this social structure, and again he was drawn away from it by more pressing matters, namely the second finger that was sliding into him and the fight that went on within him between his need to show he didn’t want this and his need to survive it and return to his master. He doubted that Nathanos would hesitate to order his hounds to fuck him poorly prepped if he was too difficult to prepare properly, and yet every ounce of him wanted to prove to his captor that he did not in any way desire what was happening. 

“Given that I’ve been told to be polite, I’ll do my best,” Nathanos sneered, “May I, pretty please, dig my fangs into your jugular and consume your life’s essence?”

The heavy sarcasm in his words seemed more a mockery of this ‘politeness’ and less an ingenuine request, and Shaw startled.  _ What kind of request was that? _ However, this need for permission was convenient in one way — it let him deny the man without hurting himself, or so he hoped.

“No,” he said simply, but urged meanwhile his body to relax around the now three fingers thrusting in and out of him. 

Nathanos grimaced. “Have it your way.”

He withdrew his fingers and took a step back, shoulders stiff for a reason Shaw couldn’t place. An order to get to his hands and knees had Shaw’s body dropping harshly to the floor, unerringly obeying the command.  _ Light _ he hoped whatever effect the blood had on him would fade sooner rather than later, this was getting tiring.

There were words spoken then in a language he didn’t know and suddenly the achingly cold aura of a plaguehound was sending goosebumps across the back of his thighs. Unable to help it, he tensed when the creature positioned itself behind him and humped a dripping cock against his ass until the head finally caught against his hole and slipped in. The creature howled and Shaw couldn’t keep the bile down this time as it began to thrust into him in rapid pumps, the knot at the base of its cock slamming against his hole with each thrust until that too worked its way into his body. 

Vomit filled his mouth, acrid and hot, and he leaned away as much as possible from where his head had been hanging between his propped up shoulders as it spilled past his lips. There was a laugh from the main desk as Sylvanas clearly revelled in his pain, and for all he wished he could fight it the sound just made him sicker. 

When the heaving of his stomach stopped he spat and grit his teeth, trying to not let the tears filling his eyes at the pain he was in fall. He would give whatever he needed to give to escape this place and return to his master and king, but he would do so without shedding the tears he’d locked away since the loss of the one man he’d loved so many years ago. The hound let out a bone-shaking howl, deep and deathly in a way that chilled him, as it came inside him, and he wanted to vomit again even if his stomach had nothing left to give.

Another command was given, and the creature pulled away. Shaw fought not to collapse in relief when the pain the intrusion of its knot had been causing finally disappeared and then fought back tears once again as it was replaced by the other hound. Fuck, he’d forgotten there were two. 

He gripped the carpet beneath him and tried to keep himself loose when the second hound thrust into his come-slicked hole, but this one was bigger and rougher than the last and he couldn’t help the way he tensed, which only made it forcing its knot into him worse. Blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay as pain lanced up his spine and through his hips, he tried to relax himself enough that the pain at least somewhat lessened, but despite his efforts, nothing could seem to make the ache retreat. Distantly he realized he was hard from it even though all he could consciously register was the pain that didn’t seem to fade, and it was all he could do not to let his tears spill over when he realized that fact.

“You know,” Nathanos mused, squatting down in front of him, “I can make this better for you. I can make it such that you don’t even feel the pain. All you have to do is ask.”

For all Shaw wished he possessed the humility to bow to the man, he didn’t, instead gritting his teeth and gripping the carpet tighter as the hound finally started to lose rhythm to its intense thrusts and come inside him. He wanted to collapse in relief. It was over, he’d survived it with his ego intact, and he could figure out what to do next when he’d recovered a little. 

But then Sylvanas was laughing again and he looked up in time to see her give a command to the hounds and the first hound was mounting him, somehow hard again. A sinking feeling settled into his chest at the realization that this was nowhere close to over, and honestly, any hope he had of his ego holding out another whole round of the hounds fucking him was growing increasingly unlikely the more the pain tore through him. He realized now that the second hound had torn him badly, and he was probably bleeding. No matter how much he relaxed, further friction was only going to make it worse. His only hope, really, was to beg for Nathanos’s cock, but he felt sick at even considering bowing to the man’s will so quickly. 

The pain suffused him; the more the hounds fucked him and the harder his cock grew, the more the pain was at the forefront of his mind and there was nothing else he could think of lest his disgust for what was happening take over and the tears in his eyes spill down his cheeks. He tried to let his mind go somewhere outside his body, but that had never been something he’d been good at doing on command and the danger he was so clearly in prevented him from distancing himself from it. And yet, he made it nearly all the way through the second hound fucking him twice before he finally broke, tears so close to falling he had to stop it somehow.

“Please,” he gasped. “Please make it stop.”

Nathanos kneeled down before him and tilted his chin up so they could make eye contact, “I can’t stop it… well, I can but that’s not what I offered. I can make it better for you.”

But no, Shaw knew he needed it to stop. He needed to not have a dog’s cock in his ass as he was watched by a group of his enemies. He needed this situation to go away, not just to stop hurting him. 

“I need it to stop, please, please make it stop,” he begged, then wracked his brain for what Nathanos had said earlier about making him beg, “I need your cock, please. Fuck me.”

At that, Nathanos cocked a brow. “So soon? I didn’t think you’d beg for that for a while. Well, I’m not going to give you what you want in that regard, but I suppose some relief is warranted for your intelligence.” He leaned in close so only Shaw could hear, and whispered a command to him, “Sleep.”

The world went dark in seconds.


	2. Chapter 2

The tiles were cool beneath his cheek as he came to, which would have been a relief to the sudden fever-heat of his blood had the boot pressing his head down not been an uncomfortably arousing counterpoint. Shaw could feel the tread grinding into his cheek and his cock twitched traitorously. A raspy chuckle above him roused him from the thought, and he tried to stir horror or revulsion in himself at the position he was in, but quickly found himself not only unable but uncaring to do so as something slick and cool pressed against his hole. 

“Look at you, squirming and mewling on the floor like a bitch in heat,” Nathanos sneered, “But I suppose it would make me a poor host not to care for my guest in every way he desires.”

Lifting the boot from his face, Nathanos moved to a kneeling position behind Shaw and pushed his hips closer to the ground from where he had them raised up in the air.  _ Bitch in heat, indeed _ , he thought to himself, having not been entirely aware of the way he had been presenting himself needily to anyone who came into the room. And now that he thought of it, there were people here in the main parlour — a handful of nicely dressed Undead milled about, likely the upper crust of whatever passed for society here. Dread curled in his stomach at the sickening realization that he was this evening's entertainment, but before the shame could sink its teeth into his chest it was drowned out by Nathanos’s fingers plunging into him and stroking his prostate. 

Shaw arched back into his touch, moaning loudly, “Please, please. Oh, that’s good.”

“Such a wonderful little slut, aren’t you. I told the Dark Lady you would put on a better show this time.” Nathanos leaned over him, breath caressing his ear as he spoke before he dipped down to lick a line up his throat, “You would taste so sweet if only I was allowed to drink from you, but alas I cannot do so without your permission. Such a shame, that, I’ve heard it can feel quite good for both parties.”

With his words, Nathanos thrust his fingers with more force, and Shaw couldn’t help the way he bared his throat to the man, “Do what you want, take what you want. Please, please take what you want.”

“Hmm, perhaps I will. But let’s take care of you first, yes? You do seem oh so desperate and you are my guest,” Nathanos replied, letting the tip of a fang graze over Shaw’s jugular as he worked a third finger into him and Shaw was coming quite suddenly despite himself, entirely untouched. 

When the throes of his orgasm died down into a simmer, body no longer quivering and pulsing, ears no longer ringing, vision no longer blurred, Shaw realized that there were people clapping. Shame choked him suddenly, a savage, bestial, smothering smoke in his lungs and he was drowning in it. But as quickly as it had come, the press of Nathanos’s fingers into his prostate once again chased it away with equal haste, and his mind floated off into that pleasant space where all that mattered was his touch and cock… and teeth. 

Nathanos withdrew his fingers from Shaw’s body, but his disappointment and emptiness didn’t last, for soon he was replacing them with something hard, barely warm, and slicked with oil. His cock, Shaw realized distantly as he was penetrated, relishing the stretch of it. Nathanos groaned and dug his claws into Shaw’s hips, only pausing his slow thrust when he was fully seated in him, giving him the barest moment to adjust before withdrawing halfway and slamming back in. The pace he set was brutal, Shaw’s face scraping against the floor where he was pressed down into it, but the roughness only made the orgasm building in him all the more potent and soon enough another orgasm was rocking through his body. 

Some small part of him knew then, as he was recovering from this orgasm and found himself hurtling toward another, that this was not natural. His body had been altered somehow, perhaps fed some alchemical substance to alter his hormones or increase his sex drive, and that all the pleasure coursing through him was not his own at all, but something forced upon him. Unfortunately, that didn’t make it feel any less good, didn’t make the way his body screamed in ecstasy any less potent; he hated how much he craved every touch Nathanos gave him, but that didn’t stop him from craving it. 

With continued fervour, Nathanos fucked him relentlessly, cock warming to the temperature of Shaw’s body and angled just right to slam into his prostate on every thrust. Shaw could feel that the man was still fully dressed, clothes brushing against his own bare skin, and what a sight that must have been to behold, the Dark Lady’s champion barely undressed and playing with some fully naked and drugged Alliance captive like a cat playing with its food. Shaw shuddered at the thought, that was exactly what he was, wasn’t he? But his body was singing under Nathanos’s hands and he didn’t have the strength to deny him when Nathanos crooned sweetly in his ear, asking for permission to bite into his neck and drink from him. 

Even the sharp tearing of fangs into his neck was a holy pleasure, and as Shaw felt his life essence bleeding from him to feed the man behind him, his body sang with such heady joy he was coming again, and this time he wasn’t alone. As Nathanos clamped onto his neck with his mouth, he was grasping with equal desperation his hips as he pumped Light-knew-what into Shaw’s body — he didn’t know if the man could actually  _ come _ , and he didn’t really want to think about it too closely — and found release inside him. Unlike the glaring reality that had come back to him after his last orgasm, there was no reality to be found in the bite on his neck. Instead, it continued to feel just as pleasurable as it had at first, and even as the rest of the world and a certain clarity in this situation came back to him, that did not abate. 

He sensed now the gaze of this nightmarish court’s denizens, how they watched him, enraptured by his nakedness, his humanness, his life. He sensed the growing warmth of the chest pressed to his back and the eternal chill of the tiles beneath his cheek, the liquid that ran out of his hole and down the back of his thighs that might have been oil or might have been… something else. He sensed the claws biting into his hip, shaky for reasons he couldn’t understand, and the lips soft and almost delicate against the punctured skin at his throat. He sensed the faint hum of pleasure that rolled from Nathanos’s throat to vibrate against his neck.

He sensed Nathanos drawing whatever it was that had ensorcelled him into ecstasy out of him through his blood.

When Nathanos finally drew back, laving a long line over the wound to close it, Shaw could feel exhaustion taking his limbs now that the magic was out of his system, and it was dragging his eyes closed as well despite his fear of falling unconscious again in this place, under the power of these horrid people. Nathanos pulled out of his body, and Shaw tried not to let the bile rising in his throat at the utter emptiness he felt actually turn to vomit. Then there was a heavy coat being wrapped around him and he was lifted into the air by strong arms. 

Gazing up at Nathanos, who now cradled him bridal style in his arms, he watched half-asleep as he had a conversation with a red-eyed undead elf who raised an eyebrow suspiciously but seemed to agree to whatever his request of her was. Nathanos carried him through shadowed halls of dark stone and finally through a heavy oaken door that he pushed closed with his heel. The room they’d entered was evidently a bedroom of sorts, with lavish deep purple curtains and a black-iron four-poster bed with black crushed velvet sheets and purple embroidery. However, despite the delicate lacework on the borders of the pillowcases and the ornateness of the tableware that sat on a small table next to a blazing hearth, something felt… wrong about the room. It felt dead.

He was gently deposited onto the bed, still wrapped in Nathanos’s coat and the man went to the table to pour something from a metal pitcher into one of the crystalline goblets. The liquid was a deep ruby, and he filled the glass halfway before changing to another pitcher, this one pouring something clear and diluting the red liquid. 

Nathanos helped him sit up and passed him the goblet, “It’s watered wine. It won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Taking the goblet with shaking hands, Shaw gave it a sniff that even his discerning nose didn’t detect a hint of poison in and guided it to his mouth cautiously. He knew there were poisons that were scentless, or at the least ones that had scents that would be hidden in wine, but all his carefulness dissipated the moment the liquid touched his parched lips. Within moments he’d drained the glass, entirely unaware of how thirsty he’d been until the goblet was empty in his hands and Nathanos was watching him with a raised brow.

“Uh, thanks,” he muttered awkwardly, and Nathanos snorted, taking the goblet back to the table and refilling it but leaving it there when he came back to the bed.

“If you want more you’ll need to get up and get it yourself or ask for it,” Nathanos said, arms crossed, but at Shaw’s glare explained further, “You haven’t drinken in some time and I don’t want you to make yourself sick all over these new sheets. This way, you’ll have to battle either your body or your ego and I doubt either will get out of your way easily.”

Shaw frowned.  _ Some time? _ It hadn’t felt like… “How long was I unconscious for?”

Nathanos looked at him carefully, seeming to measure his words, “You’re the spy, my little fly, why don’t you figure it out?”

“I’m a spy, not a detective. We observe, steal, incriminate and report, we don’t  _ figure things out,”  _ he huffed, then huffed again when he noticed how much his irritation — and confirmation that he was a spy — pleased his captor.

“SI:7 training is sure easier to get through than I’d imagined, though maybe you’re just not that good a spy,” Nathanos sneered.

He opened his mouth to retort then closed it, biting down on his tongue to keep from further revealing his secrets. Damn this man and his wiley ways of breaking down his barriers. “You aren’t that good at getting information,” he settled on instead, crossing his arms.

Nathanos dragged a finger along his jaw, tipping his face up, “Of that, we have yet to see.”

A gloved thumb brushed against his bottom lip and for a moment, and only a moment, Shaw let himself rest in the gentleness of that touch before he pulled away, “What do you want from me? Why are you being kind to me?”

“Kind?” And Nathanos had the grace and conscience to snort, “I would hardly call serving my own purposes with your body kindness.”

“Yet you were far less cruel than you could have been,” Shaw reminded him, “You drew the poison from my body instead of letting me whine and beg to be fucked by any and every cock in the vicinity.”

Nathanos shook his head, “You clearly misunderstand what you felt.” But there was a sharp edge under his words, a glint of danger that caught Shaw’s attention the way light might catch a dagger stored beneath someone’s cloak — he got the distinct sense he wasn’t supposed to have figured that part of it out, and now that he had, he may just be in even more danger. 

“There are things about your… particular nature I have yet to fully understand, it would seem,” Shaw sniffed and hoped he was doing a decent job of acting the haughty, self-assured rogue. 

By Nathanos’s grin, he figured he’d done a decent job, “Indeed there are things you have yet to learn, perhaps I could show you.” And then he was pressing their mouths together and Shaw did his best not to recoil in disgust, the creeping sensation at the back of his neck telling him that not only was he being watched but that this moment meant something more than Nathanos’s pleasure. 

He let himself be kissed, wet and rough and bruising, and Nathanos’s hands found their way into his hair and onto his cock. Trying not to shudder as a cool tongue plunged into his mouth, Shaw did his best to make his moan sound genuine rather than repulsed and shook in his grasp. Nathanos pulled away, nipping over his jaw to his ear as he stroked his cock and whispering, “Never assume you’re alone here.” 

Shaw shuddered again, then tried to cover it with a moan to make it seem like a reaction of pleasure rather than fear. Why was Nathanos telling him this, he wondered, and what sort of game was he playing? Was Sylvanas the one watching, or was it someone else? And, more importantly, was Nathanos putting his neck out for Shaw and doing things he wasn’t supposed to? If so, why? He felt like he could faint from all his questions, but managed to bring a hand up and draw Nathanos back into a deep kiss, hoping it would seem like the thing he would do were he still drugged or influenced how he’d been before. 

Moaning into Nathanos’s touch, he willed himself to try and enjoy it, to try and get hard from it, but his body was tired and dehydrated and probably malnourished and without whatever it was that had made him so alike to a cat in heat earlier, there was no hope of him getting hard any time soon. He pulled back, apology poised on his lips, but Nathanos just laid a finger over his lips.

“I’ll find something for you to eat, I’m sure your body is exhausted and underfed by now. Do you want me to bring the wine for you?” He motioned to the watered wine on the table next to the hearth.

Shaw nodded. “Yes please,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling exhaustion weigh on him like a lead blanket. 

Nathanos retrieved the wine, setting it on the bedside table well within reach, then went about gently lifting Shaw enough to take his coat back and deposit him under the covers. As the soft silken sheets warmed to his body and the heaviness of the comforter settled over him, he found himself drifting into unconsciousness once again, hating how easily he fell asleep with Nathanos there. 

  
  


He woke to the weight of something sturdy draped over his legs, the smell of fresh bread and the sound of voices. Cracking his eyes open, he froze at the sight of one of the hounds he’d become all too well-acquainted with earlier laying across his legs and the other lying next to him on the bed, curled into a ball. Thankfully, both seemed asleep, or as asleep as a dead thing that probably didn’t need to sleep could be. There was a small tray of bread and cheese on the bedside table next to the wine now, which he supposed had been brought at some point while he slept, but what caught his attention was the rough grating of Nathanos’s sharp words outside his door. 

“Leave, Drevyn, he needs his rest if we’re to keep playing with him. You might like to break your toys beyond recognition but I prefer mine to retain a little of their bite,” he snarled. 

“You’re so droll, Nathanos,” replied the familiar voice of the San’layn that had been in Sylvanas’s office, “But I do suppose that’s to be expected of the Dark Lady’s lap dog. Don’t tell me, let me guess. You don’t like breaking your toys because you remember what it was like when she broke you?” 

Nathanos growled inhumanly, sounding like an angry and caged animal. “You know nothing of my loyalty to her or our relationship. Now leave before I make you leave.”

The San’layn laughed, a cold, cruel, bitter sound that had Shaw’s guts turning to ice. “I don’t think I will. And don’t make me remind you that you only give orders to me when your lady wills it, and I don’t see her around to make your word mean something more than a toddler’s whining.” 

The door flew open and the San’layn came in, grinning when he saw Shaw on the bed awake. He didn’t get far, though, because before he took more than a few steps inside the room the hounds were on their feet and growling at him, fangs bared. Shaw had never been so grateful for the creatures as he was in that moment, for the San’layn paused, spine straight in fear, and glared over his shoulder at Nathanos. 

“Call off your dogs, Blightcaller,” he ordered, but Nathanos just smirked.

“I don’t take my orders from you, Drevyn, so unless you’d like to make a formal request from our Dark Lady to get past them, I think my hounds can do as they please. Plus, I hardly see how it’s my fault they’ve grown possessive of their bitch.” 

Drevyn snarled something in Gutterspeak, but made no attempt to get closer, and when Nathanos simply shrugged at his comment, he left without another word. The minute he was gone the hounds relaxed, laying back down how they’d been before if not snuggling into Shaw closer, and he wondered whether Nathanos’s comment had been more than just snark: had the hounds claimed him as their mate in some way? But then the one next to him whined and nuzzled its nose against his hand in that way dogs did when asking for attention and he realized they were just acting like dogs being protective of their owner. Lifting his hand to scritch behind the hound’s ears, he briefly wondered why until he saw that Nathanos was still there in the doorway, watching him with a very slight smile. 

“They’ve warmed to you surprisingly well,” he said, coming into the room and closing the door behind himself. “I wasn’t being honest with Drevyn, they haven’t registered you as a mate in any way. From what I’ve observed, when they are under Sylvanas’s influence they are closer to robots than animals, and they don’t remember anything from that time. I’ve tested it with tricks, tried to teach them something while they were under her control and then tested them on it after. They always failed the tests.”

“So it’s mind control that she uses?” Shaw asked, surprised with how curious he felt. 

“More than that, really. But it’s complex and I don’t want to reveal too many of her secrets to the Alliance’s spymaster,” Nathanos replied with a smirk, coming to sit at Shaw’s side on the mattress and pulling the tray of bread and cheese into his lap. Shaw wanted to be surprised that Nathanos knew who he was, but before he could summon the curiosity to ask the man answered anyway, “We sent a letter of ransom to your king, who very unintelligently wrote a furious reply saying that we should not have messed with his inner circle. Sylvanas wanted to turn you and send you back, see what he would do for the fun of it, but I convinced her you could be leveraged for territory we’ve been after for a while now. Anyway, you need to eat. It’s been days since you got here and your body may protest so take it slow, but if you don’t eat you’ll only get weaker.”

“Days?” he croaked, sitting himself up against the pillows much to the hound on his legs’ protest and reaching for the wine to quench his parched throat, “Has it really been that long?” 

Nathanos simply hummed and held out a piece of bread for him to bite down on. For all he wanted to bitch that he could feed himself, he was tired and his body felt shaky and cold in that way it usually did when he skipped too many meals and so he didn’t resist the treatment, simply leaning forward to take a bite from the piece held out for him. He chewed and swallowed, washing it down with more watered wine, then leaned forward for another bite. On the third bite, he’d finished off the piece and felt Nathanos’s gloved fingers brush his lips as he pressed the morsel into his mouth. Nathanos withdrew his hand quickly, blinking and looking away as his chest rose and fell rapidly, before picking up another piece and holding it out for him again. 

He got through the second piece without issue, but when Nathanos picked up a third Shaw felt his stomach clench and cramp and he shook his head. “I think that’s enough for now,” he grumbled, “It’s starting to hurt and I think I might make myself sick if I eat more.” 

Nathanos frowned, “You’re worse off than I’d hoped. Well, never mind that, drink up your wine and then I’m taking you for a bath. You’ll need to be in good condition if we’re hoping to trade you for a territory.”

“You won’t,” Shaw said, unsure why he was being honest with the man, “Varian doesn’t value me enough to give away land to you for my safe return. He might allude to being willing, or make it sound like he’s going to, but in the end, he won’t and when you look back at his words you’ll realize he was duping you all along.” 

“So the spymaster doesn’t have secrets that could tear him down to shreds? That could give him a new home in the dungeons or worse? I think you misunderstand your value,” Nathanos countered, placing the tray back on the bedside table and waving the hounds off the bed. 

Shaw simply shook his head. “He knows I’d rather die than talk, and he knows I won’t stray from him. There’s only so much worth losing to get back someone you can replace with two or maybe three people. I might be worth a lot, but not that much.” 

Squinting, Nathanos leaned forward to place a hand softly on his shoulder. “It’s him, isn’t it? The man who’s fucking you without regard to your consent?” 

“That’s the nicest way of phrasing ‘rape’ that I’ve ever heard,” he retorted, not answering him. 

“Not necessarily rape, not all the time anyway, just someone who doesn’t care when it is and when it isn’t, and doesn’t bother asking permission,” Nathanos explained, “You said, one cock, a couple of times a week with little prep, and you didn’t seem happy about it. It’s him, isn’t it.” 

Shaw growled. “Do not slander my king in such a fashion.” 

“Don’t attempt to play patriot when you showed open disloyalty moments ago. Is it him?” Nathanos pressed, seeming more frustrated than Shaw would have expected him to be.

Unwilling to admit it aloud, he tried to turn the conversation back on Nathanos. “How would you feel if I accused Sylvanas of what you’re accusing my king of? What would you say if I implied she rapes you?” 

“I would say you’re correct,” Nathanos replied coolly, and Shaw’s jaw snapped shut, “My lady has no regard for my consent and will have no regard for yours if you stick around long enough to garner her interest. I would recommend you try to convince your king you're worth giving up territory for.” 

“So my options are to leave one abuser for another? What’s the point?” Shaw asked quietly, not having ever admitted those words, that term aloud before and feeling quite sure Varian could somehow hear him all the way from Stormwind.

“Your options are to choose between an evil that will rob you of your life, your body and your free will, and an evil that will fuck you whenever he wants. I’m not going to rob you of that choice, but I advise you to think about how it felt to have me order you around when you were my ghoul and consider if you want that as your future for the rest of your natural and unnatural life.” Nathanos’s voice was so soft he could barely hear him, “Now get out of bed, I need to have you washed in time for dinner. And in case your experience before wasn’t enough to teach you of my lady’s cruelty, perhaps tonight will change your mind.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully the timeline of this all made sense, thanks for reading. As always, kudos and comments mean the world, and happy Halloween!


End file.
